Gravitation Drabble Series
by ishkhanuhi
Summary: A collection of unrelated drabbles, written at random. Pairings and ratings vary! 12/27/10 - Counseling. "He didn't know why he had allowed Shuichi to talk him into going to relationship counseling, and just chalked it up to a momentary lapse of sanity."
1. Mail: Eiri x Shuichi

**[Title]**: Mail  
**[Pairing]**: Eiri/Shuichi  
**[Rated]**: G  
**[Disclaimer]**: All characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me)  
**[Author's Note]**: Just a collection of unrelated drabbles! None of them will be related to one another unless I indicate so. There will also be no themes to the drabbles unless I indicate so. And I will not post drabbles regularly; I'll put them up as I write them. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

The chair creaked softly beneath him as he sat back down. Eiri had gotten up to pace around his study, smoking heavily, when he had come to a particularly difficult scene in his novel.

The entire apartment was so quiet it was deafening. Eiri frowned, glancing over at his study door. He couldn't even hear the soft hum of the television outside, or the padding of footsteps this way and that, or any humming of an old Nittle Grasper tune - the usual sounds he encountered when he was trying to write.

Shuichi... Was he even still there? Or had he gone out?

The novelist shook his head, placing his fingers back onto the keys of his laptop. The gentle glow from its screen felt slightly warm against his hands. Eiri wondered why he often still thought about Shuichi whenever the singer wasn't there. He'd told Shuichi to leave him alone for a reason. But why did Shuichi still overrun him, even when he wasn't present?

Then he finally heard a noise, which, to his surprise, he found relieving. Shuichi was quietly shuffling down the hall to his study door. Eiri started to type, wanting to appear busy. He would yell at Shuichi if the singer tried to get inside; he'd specifically told him to stay out while he was working. The footsteps stopped, and Eiri watched as several envelopes were suddenly stuffed underneath the crack of the door, and then the footsteps quickly went away. Eiri frowned, disappointed.

He stood up from his seat again, and went to retrieve his mail. Sometimes, he wished Shuichi wouldn't listen to him so much.


	2. Fetish: Eiri x Shuichi

**[Title]**: Fetish  
**[Pairing]**: Eiri/Shuichi  
**[Rating]**: PG-13  
**[Warnings]**: Kinkiness, very mild adult situations  
**[Disclaimer]**: All characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me)

* * *

"Are you wearing them?"

Across the room, standing just inside the bedroom door, Shuichi nodded slowly. He squirmed where he stood, hands nervously toying with the hem of his t-shirt. "Yeah…"

"Come here."

Shuichi remained still for a moment longer, then tentatively took a step forward. "Yuki, this is embarrassing…"

Sitting crosslegged on the bed, Eiri leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "That's not the point. Why are you being so shy?"

"Because!" Shuichi stomped his foot dramatically. "I don't need to be wearing these! They feel funny, and they chafe!"

"But they're sexy. Don't you want to please me?"

Violet eyes swept to the floor, the singer's cheeks tinting a bashful pink. "I guess so."

"Then show me."

Shuichi slowly neared Eiri on the bed, his hands starting to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. He looked up at the novelist, as if pleading for one last chance to save himself, but Eiri gestured for him to continue. He hooked his thumbs into his jean pockets with a sigh, and slipped the fabric down to his ankles, kicking them away.

"Hmm…"

Shuichi clenched his jaw shut tightly. What was Eiri doing? Inspecting him? He felt very self-conscious, but reluctantly twirled at the novelist's beckoning.

"They look better on you than I thought," Eiri finally said, crawling forward on his hands and knees to reach Shuichi by the end of the bed. He yanked the singer down to him, Shuichi's arms flailing, and wrapped his hands around the other's waist, teasing the lacy elastic band of his underwear.

"Uh… G-good?" Shuichi's face was now beet red. "Y-Yuki, why do I have to wear women's panties again…?"

"Because I like them on you." The older male's fingers slipped just beneath the elastic band in the front, teasing the soft curl of hairs hidden there.

Shuichi squirmed again, whimpering softly. "Why can't _you_ have worn the panties? Lace is uncomfortable! And it's a _thong_!"

Eiri rolled his eyes. "You've worn women's panties before. What's the big deal?"

"Th-those were my sister's panties! Not…" He gesticulated with his hands. "_These_!"

"Oh, so you're saying you'd rather wear your sister's underwear?"

Shuichi's face scrunched, his hands freezing in mid-air. Err— "Oh, w-whatever!" He flopped backwards into Eiri's arms, his head pillowed just beneath the novelist's chin. "Do what you want! I give up!"

He'd been waiting for that. Eiri smirked, suppressing a chuckle, and seized him.


	3. Photo: Tatsuha x Maiko

**[Title]**: Photo**  
[Pairing]**: Tatsuha/Maiko  
**[Rating]**: PG  
**[Warnings]**: Some profanity  
**[Disclaimer]**: All characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me)

* * *

Shuichi set his suitcase down into the bedroom with a jarring _thunk_, panting and stretching his abused arms. "God, that's _heavy_!"

"What did you _pack_ in here?"

"Just a bunch of clothes and stuff…" Shuichi straightened his back and looked up at Tatsuha beside him. "Oh, thanks for watching the place for us while we were gone, Tatsuha-kun!"

Tatsuha's lips curled into a smirk, waving his hand dismissively. "It was no problem at all." Really, it wasn't. Crashing at your older brother's pad and escaping Kyoto for a weekend was a blessed offer. As long as the place was properly equipped with beer and smokes and porn.

"I hope you weren't too bored here!" Shuichi gestured for Tatsuha to help him carry the suitcase to the bed, and they both squatted and lugged it over, plopping it down and making the bedsprings groan beneath it. "Heh. Thanks." The singer unlatched his suitcase and flung the top open, his clothes stuffed there in disarray.

Tatsuha quirked an eyebrow. Even _his_ bedroom wasn't that messy. "It's fine."

"So, anway," Shuichi continued, unpacking his things, "Me and Yuki went to Osaka, right? It was _so_ crazy in the airport when we finally got there Friday, but we managed to not get lost, which is always miraculous since I seem to get lost _all_ the time and Yuki _never_ asks for directions or anything, so—"

Helping fold Shuichi's clothes as he yanked them out, Tatsuha sat on the corner of the bed, half-listening. Damn, did he talk a lot. No wonder Eiri had gone to hide in the bathroom first thing when they arrived home.

A glitter from beneath some sweatpants caught Tatsuha's eye, and he paused, peering into the suitcase curiously. It was a picture in a frame. He could only recognize Shuichi in what looked like a family photograph, though the singer appeared to be a few years younger and had dark hair. Right beside Shuichi was a petite brunette, her hair in a ponytail over one shoulder, eyes similar to Shuichi's shining brightly at the camera. She was wearing a pretty, black dress, the hem ending in a wavy curl just above her knees. She couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen. Tatsuha stared at her, a little fascinated. "Who's this?"

Shuichi paused, looking up at Tatsuha quizzically. "Huh?" He leaned over to stare down into the photograph, and his mouth eased into a smile. "Oh! That's my family! I think I was like… seventeen then. I can't remember."

"Who is _this_?" Tatsuha pointed to the girl.

"That's my little sister, Maiko-chan! God, she's so cute, isn't she? Man, that reminds me. I have to respond to her e-mails tonight. She might think I've forgotten her or something!" Shuichi suddenly jumped from the bed, and made a beeline for the door. "Shit! I left the stove on, didn't I? I'll be right back!" He disappeared out the door, and Tatsuha sat there in silence, the picture frame in his hand.

He blinked down at the photo. Maiko-chan, hmm? She was beautiful, really hot. Maybe Shuichi could introduce them? Hook them up or something? Heh. Yeah. Like_ that_ was going to happen.

He heard a door creak open, and Eiri walked in a second later, scrubbing a towel through his wet hair. "Hey."

Tatsuha looked up a bit in surprise, setting the photo back down with Shuichi's things a little too quickly. "Uh, hey."

Eiri gave his brother a skeptical look, but shrugged it off. Whatever. Who knew with Tatsuha?

"Well, I've got school tomorrow," Tatsuha said, standing from the bed and patting the sides of his jeans. "I better be on the road now."

"Alright."

"Nice seeing you again," he murmured as he started out the door, though his eyes were looking down at the bed. At the picture frame laying there.

"Likewise, I guess." Eiri pushed a pile of Shuichi's clothes aside and sat down on the bed, yawning. "And thanks."

"No problem, Eiri."

Tatsuha stood in the doorway there for a few seconds longer, then strode out. Passing Shuichi along the way, he bid the singer goodbye, grabbed his leather jacket by the door, slipped on his shoes, and left their apartment. His motorcycle was parked outside, and hopefully still where he'd left it. And all the while, Tatsuha still couldn't stop thinking about that girl in the photo. He didn't know why, but she had just left such an impression on him.

Revving his bike in the cool, evening air, Tatsuha looked back at the apartment building, and vowed to come back again to inquire more about this Maiko-chan later. There was a perfectly cute girl in this city, and he was going to find her!


	4. Headache: Noriko x Mika

**[Title]**: Headache  
**[Pairing]**: Noriko/Mika  
**[Rating]**: PG  
**[Warnings]**: Girls kissing!  
**[Disclaimer]**: All characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me)

* * *

Gently rocking the wine glass in her hand, Mika leaned against the hallway wall, letting her eyelids fall shut. She'd been suffering such a blinding headache since the guests for Tohma's house party had begun arriving two hours before, and not a single painkiller she'd taken successfully mitigated it. She inhaled slowly, and downed the rest of her wine. Hopefully, she would grow drunk and pass out and not have to deal with anything for the rest of the evening. Tohma had just not understood her, and she really didn't want to have to make nice with him out there anymore.

He was more interested in entertaining his guests than caring for his wife, as he so demonstrated. She just stormed away to find a quiet place, and had been standing in the darkened hallway since.

Mika turned to start for the bedroom when she heard the soft clacking of heels on the tiled floor behind her. "Mika-chan?" a gentle voice filled the hallway, and she felt a smooth hand on her bare shoulder. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you!"

The brunette carefully turned back and found Noriko grinning up at her, a colorful drink in her hands. "Nori…"

Noriko's smile faded, her painted lips turning down at the corners, and reached out to clasp Mika's cheek with her palm. "Mika-chan, are you okay? You're really pale."

Mika shut her eyes for a moment. "How can you tell? It's dark in here."

"Oh, silly." Noriko rolled her eyes, and gently pushed Mika down the hallway to the master bedroom. "Tohma mentioned something about you not feeling well, and that you walked off somewhere. What's wrong, honey?"

"I have… the _worst_ headache…" Mika barely registered being pushed into a seated position on her bed and the wine glass being pried from her hand, when the soft caress of Noriko's hand touched her shoulder again.

"Hmm… Maybe you should lie down for now. Tohma-kun will understand."

"Yeah," Mika mumbled under her breath, and slowly lowered her body onto the bed, not caring that her legs were still dangling off one side, and that her strapless, black, mini-dress was being wrinkled. She thought Noriko quietly left when she all of a sudden felt hands touch her right foot, then pull off her stiletto, thumbs giving her foot a few gentle massages in all the right places. Mika's brow creased and she moaned softly.

A chuckle came from beside the bed, and then Mika's body jerked with surprise when she unexpectedly felt a pair of velvety lips press against her own. The brunette's eyes fluttered open, a picture of Noriko lying on her side beside her just visible through her hazed vision. "Nori-chan…"

"Get some rest, Mika-chan," Noriko whispered, and ran her hand across Mika's forehead lightly, brushing away stray hairs.

Not a minute later, Mika's eyes shut and her breathing slowed, and Noriko very carefully pushed herself off the bed, setting Mika's stilettos aside and pulling a blanket over her torso. She left the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind her, and disappeared back into Tohma's party just as her bandmates prepared to perform a song. Noriko smiled, suddenly inspired.


	5. Sick: Eiri x Shuichi

**[Title]:** Sick**  
[Pairing]:** Eiri/Shuichi  
**[Rating]**: PG  
**[Warnings]:** Um… Finger-abuse? And no, not that kind. v_v  
**[Disclaimer]:** Characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me).

* * *

The book shook in his hands as he was overcome with another fit of coughs. Eiri set his reading aside, taking tentative deep breaths, and reached to the nightstand for his water glass. He frowned to see that it was empty.

"Shuichi," he rasped, trying futilely to hail his lover from the living room, but his voice failed him, and he instead slumped back against his pillows with a defeated sigh.

A moment later, a head peeked into the bedroom, and soon a body followed, carrying a tray of soup and crackers. Eiri quirked an eyebrow. That kid seriously had some kind of sixth sense… "Yuki," Shuichi said, smiling as he strutted over proudly and positioned the tray on the novelist's lap. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible." Eiri moved the tray closer and picked up a spoon, stirring the hot soup slowly and letting the calming steam penetrate his skin. "I never get this sick."

Shuichi shrugged, and crawled onto his own side of the bed, lying on his stomach there. It felt nice to play hooky from work today, he thought, and idly wondered what K would say to him tomorrow. Or what arsenal he might thrust at Shuichi's head. "It happens. I hope you like my soup. Watch it. S'hot."

"I would hope." Eiri brought a spoonful to his lips and blew lightly. His attention flicked over to Shuichi beside him as he drank. He looked just as tired as Eiri was, strangely enough. Shuichi never seemed to be out of energy. Was Eiri that much of a burden? Well, he concluded, it was Shuichi's own damn fault. Eiri had never asked to be cared for.

The blond opened his mouth to say something witty when a slew of bandaged fingers caught his eye. "…What happened to you?"

Shuichi looked up, confused a moment, then nervously clasped his hands and chuckled. "Oh… Eheh… I had a little accident with the stove while making the soup."

"How the hell can you screw up with _soup_?"

"It can happen!" Shuichi pouted, and scrambled to a seated position. He fiddled with the corner of Eiri's pillow. "Sorry. But I made the soup, and it's good, isn't it?"

"You didn't burn or break anything, did you?"

"Only my fingers." He extended his hand to the novelist's face.

Eiri observed the slim digits, sloppily wrapped in bright green Band-Aids. Well, it was endearing enough. Quietly, Eiri set his spoon aside, and clasped Shuichi's hand, bringing the other's fingers to his lips and giving them a gentle kiss. "Thanks, but don't try it again, or _I'll_ end up the one taking care of _you_." He gave Shuichi a look that clearly said how much he wanted to do _that_.

Shuichi, a little surprised, watched as the novelist returned to drinking his soup without another word, sleepy golden eyes staring blankly ahead, and smiled. "You're welcome, Yuki."


	6. Piano: Tohma x Eiri

**[Title]:** Piano  
**[Pairing]:** Eiri/Shuichi, Tohma/Eiri  
**[Rating]**: G  
**[Warnings]:** None, except that the Tohma/Eiri part is extremely subtle, and one-sided. Ahaha.  
**[Disclaimer]:** Characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me).

* * *

Each note echoed throughout the house in a melodic haze. Tohma Seguchi closed his eyes and pressed each key on his grand piano as if it were his last time, becoming lost in the music played.

He wasn't playing anything specific. He'd just sat down and started. Mika could tell he was troubled as she watched him from the kitchen doorway, leaning gently against the frame with worried eyes.

Behind her, she could hear the cooks and the maids preparing dinner. She tuned them out in favor of another distraction.

Her heels clacked softly on the tiled floor as she approached him, his back to her, his arms moving almost imperceptibly as he played. Mika stopped right behind him, and rested delicate hands on either of his shoulders. Tohma didn't falter. His notes seemed to grow even more melancholy as the minutes continued.

"Tohma," she murmured after a while. Her voice was barely audible over the sad notes of the piano, but Tohma stopped, straightening his posture on the polished bench. He didn't turn to her. Mika wasn't sure she wanted him to.

"Yes?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course."

"You went to Eiri's after work this afternoon?"

"Yes. I stopped by, but I didn't stay very long."

Mika's eyes darkened, wondering what Eiri had said to him this time. She looked down at the blond head of her husband. He sat rail-straight. Though she couldn't feel so well over his suit, she knew that his muscles were tense. "Are you sure everything's alright?"

"It doesn't concern you, Mika-san."

Blinking, jaw tightening, Mika nodded. She stepped away from him slowly, dropping her hands to her sides. For a moment, she saw a glimpse of Tohma's face in his reflection on the piano. It didn't take much imagination to understand what Tohma must have seen and heard over there.

Mika started back towards the kitchen, damning her brother all the while. Only Eiri could cause such a reaction from the normally cool and collected Tohma. Now she wasn't sure whether she had lost her husband, or if she never had him at all.


	7. Counseling: Eiri x Shuichi

**[Title]**: Counseling  
**[Pairing]**: Eiri/Shuichi  
**[Rated]**: PG for language  
**[Disclaimer]**: All characters belong to Maki Murakami and co. (i.e. not me)  
**[Author's Note]**: Just a collection of unrelated drabbles! None of them will be related to one another unless I indicate so. There will also be no themes to the drabbles unless I indicate so. And I will not post drabbles regularly; I'll put them up as I write them. Enjoy! :)

Bwhaha, this one is kinda long! I couldn't decide whether to keep it a drabble or write it into a longer fic, so it kind of fell between.

* * *

"So nice to see the both of you again." The middle-aged woman smiled kindly, her back straight and tall against the swiveling chair.

Eiri sat to her right in another chair, his elbow on one armrest to prop up his chin. He didn't know why he had allowed Shuichi to talk him into going to relationship counseling, and just chalked it up to a momentary lapse of sanity. He only hoped he didn't fall asleep this time.

The singer sat in a similar chair across from him, his hands clasped between his knees almost nervously as he regarded the woman with a tentative smile.

"Now," she continued. "I believe I gave you two some homework last time. We can start there."

"Sure," Shuichi said, digging his hands into his pockets and pulling out two wrinkled sheets of paper, straightening them out on his knee. He looked up and saw Eiri reach into his jacket and withdraw his own two sheets, folded neatly with a smooth crease. Shuichi bit his lip, looking to the counselor again. Two weeks prior, they were each instructed to go home and devise two lists for the next meeting – things they liked and things they did not like about their partner.

"Would one of you like to start reading your lists out loud?"

"O-okay…" Shuichi's eyes anxiously darted to Eiri before he looked down at his papers, and started to read them. He had listed quite a few items for each list, but his "Things I Like About Yuki" one far outnumbered the other he held. He voiced the big and little things, anything that had come to his mind – "I like how Yuki waits for me to come back from work for dinnertime", "I like how Yuki does the bills and chores, because I really don't like doing them", "I like how Yuki sets clothes out for me to wear when I'm running late for work" – until he had finished.

Then he shuffled the bottom paper on top and started reading again, a little more timidly this time. "Things I Don't Like About Yuki… I don't like how Yuki smokes so much… I don't like how Yuki belittles me… I don't like how Yuki makes me feel inadequate in bed…"

Eiri shut his eyes, a little embarrassed that Shuichi had decided to include items like that. His lover's words, otherwise, had no effect on him. He knew Shuichi's true feelings towards him, and wasn't threatened by any of his dislikes at all.

"Yuki-san, now it is your turn." Two sets of eyes settled on him.

He set the bottom paper on top first. "Things I Don't Like About Shuichi… He's clingy… He's messy… He cries too much… He listens to music too loudly… He sings in the shower… He bothers me while I'm working…"

Shuichi sighed. Those were things he often did, and were just another part of his personality. And Eiri didn't like them? He frowned, feelings definitely hurt. Were they just doomed to fail, then? He tried to withhold his tears to the best of his ability, but he knew that the counselor – and possibly Eiri, too – could sense his grief.

After a few minutes, Eiri looked up. "I haven't finished. Am I taking up too much time?"

The woman's posture had faltered slightly, cringing throughout the novelist's speech. "Eh… Why don't you move on to the 'like' list now. I… I think we get the point."

"Alright. I only have one thing listed."

"Just one?"

"Yes."

Shuichi's eyes widened, but he didn't dare look up at Eiri. He saw a tear drop from his watery eyes and create one small dark spot on his jeans.

Eiri glanced at Shuichi, then pulled out the other paper. He read it over and over for a long time, finding it a little hard to say.

"Yuki-san? If you will," the counselor urged, eager herself to hear what he had written.

"Things I Like About Shuichi," he read, stating the title at the top of the page. Eyes darted to the singer very quickly before he went on. "Everything I wrote on the other list." He refolded the paper and set it down on his lap, leaning back into his chair with a quick exhale. Over and done with.

Both the counselor and Shuichi looked up at him, blinking. Tears were flowing down Shuichi's cheeks, but he was grinning. After another moment, he chuckled. "You bastard," he said to Eiri, crossing the small expanse between their chairs and landing in his arms. "I should've seen that coming."

"You really should have, and spared me the embarrassment of having to say it."

"I'll try to be more considerate next time," Shuichi said, and swallowed Eiri's next witty comment with a fierce kiss.

The counselor smiled nervously at their open display of affection and stood. "I suppose we can adjourn early this morning…"


End file.
